


displays of affection

by thewolfsdoctor



Category: Bleach
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, literally that's all this is !!!!, so much of it!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 19:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16667143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolfsdoctor/pseuds/thewolfsdoctor
Summary: When they stopped at her apartment she kissed his cheek before rushing inside and slamming the door in his face, but he could hear her squealing excitedly on the other side of it and he smiled the entire way home.





	1. belt loops

Ichigo guesses that she’s not used to being able to touch him yet. Admittedly, neither is he. It took him several weeks to even gather the courage to hold Orihime’s hand when they walked home after school. The entire time his face felt hot and she couldn’t stop rambling nervously. When they stopped at her apartment she kissed his cheek before rushing inside and slamming the door in his face, but he could hear her squealing excitedly on the other side of it and he smiled the entire way home.

Add in the constant teasing from their friends about their new relationship to their shyness, public displays of affection are kept to a minimum. A part of him just wants to scoff at the onlookers. She’s _his girlfriend_ for crying out loud, it’s no big deal if they hold hands when they walk or hug when they say goodbye.

Yet the bigger part of his mind, the part that still can’t believe Orihime likes him like _that_ , doesn’t know what to do. He’s used to keeping a respectful distance with her, no matter how much he wanted more. And now that they had crossed that line into the _more_ he doesn’t know how to react. He still keeps a hand in his pocket and his bag slung over his shoulder, and Orihime holds her bag in both hands as they walk to class from the school entrance. He listens as she speaks animatedly about the dream she had last night, admiring the way her hair swishes as she spins to face him.

She quiets down as they walk past more students in the hallway, turning around to walk by his side again. He frowns at the idea that an audience is keeping her from being her usually exuberant self, but before he can do anything about it he realizes that she’s still speaking and he has to lean closer to hear her clearly.

He does notice, though, a nudge at his left hip. And when he looks down, he sees that Orihime had looped a finger through a belt loop in his pants like a little anchor drawing him to her. Her school bag swings back and forth in her opposite hand, now let go from its previously tight grip. Ichigo feels her bump into his side, and she apologizes quietly for knocking into him before continuing on with her story. She doesn’t say anything about why she’s holding him like that, but he finds that he doesn’t really mind it. He likes when she’s close, right by his side. It’s his favorite place for her to be.

Her hold is loose enough for him to take a step away and she’d let him go, but instead Ichigo slips his hand out of his pocket and gently places it on her back. He feels Orihime take a deep breath, and he is almost blinded by the smile she gives him. The signature bounce in her step is back, her voice gaining confidence as she reaches the point in her dream where the small potato man finally found the key to the hidden treasure in the middle of the sea. They walk to their classroom like that, ignoring the gaping students in the hallway, and only let go when they greet their friends and take their seats.


	2. shared manga

“Hello, Kurosaki-kun!”

“Hey, Inoue. Just one sec.” Ichigo digs through his bag while Orihime settles in next to him. He takes out his lunch and homework folder, and then his notebooks, eventually turning the whole things upside down for anything else in there. The strange smells from her lunch distract him enough to where he has to check again. It smells like wasabi and peanut butter today, he thinks while scrunching his nose. After all this time knowing her and only growing closer, he still doesn’t understand how she can stomach the stuff all at once. “Eh, I think I left the manga at home. Sorry.”

She looks up at him with a mouth full of rice, obviously busy with her meal, eyes wide as she puts the pieces together. And quickly, she swallows so fast that he worries she’ll choke. She bounces up on her knees as she retrieves another volume from her own bag. “Oh! That’s okay, you can give it back tomorrow. I have the next one here. Did you like it?”

At Orihime’s building excitement, his smile grows and he nods. It’s weird that her happy mood can rub off so easily on anyone around her, like that fairy with the flying dust from that movie they watched.

“It’s pretty awesome,” he says while taking the manga from her waiting hand. Immediately she tucks into her food, humming in satisfaction. “The main guy kinda reminds me of Ikkaku.”

When Ichigo opens his lunch next to hers, he notices that she scrunches her nose in an unknowing mimic of his earlier expression. And he remembers her distaste for seaweed salad. And when she hears him chuckle, she jokingly offers him a bite of rice and peanut butter, smiling when he cringes backwards.

“We should send him these,” she gasps, referring to the manga, but then pauses with her brows furrowed. “Can we do that? Is there postal service in Soul Society?”

He only shrugs, stuffing the seaweed in his mouth. “Maybe Urahara can shoot them there, or whatever he does.”

They continue thinking of ways to get the manga to Ikkaku, both convinced he would enjoy a story about a bald superhero that could kill enemies instantly, as there friends join them on the roof one by one.

Their little bubble is soon permeated by the sounds of their friends arguing and laughing, their circle complete once they all sit down. Ichigo leans against the wall with one leg stretched out and the other drawn up to support his arm, Orihime’s side pressed up against his as she talks to Tatsuki about last night’s Laugh Hour. He and Ishida argue about the project they have to complete by Friday until the bell rings. He usually walks back down with Chad and the other guys, while Orihime and Tatsuki find their friends in the courtyard before returning to class, so he promises to walk her home after school before they part ways.

“Tell me what you think about the next chapter tomorrow, Kurosaki-kun!” He hums in agreement, looking forward to read the next part of the story.


	3. phone calls and final papers

Her phone rings the minute she clocks out of work, and she almost drops it in her haste to answer.

And when she greets the caller with a cheerful “Hello, Kurosaki-kun!” she is answered by the saddest, most defeated groan she has ever heard. Orihime giggles in response. “How is your final paper going?”

The thump over the receiver is probably his head hitting the desk.

Kurosaki-kun has battled against the evilest of enemies, he has powers beyond belief, and the strongest will she could ever imagine. But today, she thinks, it sounds like school work has bested him once again.

Orihime makes her way to the bus stop at the end of the block, breath puffing clouds in the cold winter air like a dragon at the end of a long day of setting things on fire, and does her best to comfort him. “Don’t worry, you can overcome such a task!”

“My brain is so fried,” he laments. Orihime can picture him hunched over his desk, laptop open and the little line at the end of a sentence blinking repeatedly, waiting for him to continue. She briefly wonders if he’s in the cafe he said reminded him of the bakery she works at, looking like the writer with… well, writer’s block. “Deep fried like... like a deep fried food. I can’t even think of a food!”

Yeah, definitely writer’s block.

“Poor Ichi-kun,” Orihime says with a pout, but brightens up immediately. “Just remember, tomorrow you can finally come home for break! Yuzu-chan misses you so much. She is making all of your favorite foods which means she’s been cooking all day, with the help of Kurosaki-san when she allows it.”

She sits on the cold bench and swings her feet a little, the bottom of her boots scraping lightly against the icy ground. “And Karin-chan has a soccer game the day after,” she pumps her fist in the air passionately, “and she will definitely win!”

“Of course she will.”

At his comment, she finds her opportunity to interject. “Just like you will definitely pass all of your finals. And write that paper.”

“I see what you did,” Ichigo chuckles, and it’s always a nice feeling to make him laugh. She loves to know that she can make him smile. “Clever.”

“I believe in you!”

“Thanks, Orihime.”

“You’re welcome.” She pauses. A familiar heat crawls up her cheeks and she tells him quietly, “It’s always good to hear from you.”

He may not be very far, only a train ride away, but with his homework load and her busy work hours it was hard to keep in touch as often as she would like. 

“You, too. I, uh, I mean.” He clears his throat, and she can tell he has the same expression that she does. They are still getting used to their new relationship, too, which means stuttering over previously hidden words and expressing their feelings freely. But his voice is steady after he gathers his thoughts. “I can’t wait to see you.”

Her smile grows impossibly wider. “That’s very sweet, Kurosaki-kun. I can’t wait, either.”

The bus pulls up and she waits for some passengers to exit before she boards. She settles in a seat towards the front and the engine nearly drowns out the voice on the other end of the line.

“I should get back to this paper, then.” Ichigo sounds as reluctant to hang up as she feels.

“Yes! The faster you finish, the faster it will be over.”

“That’s the idea.”

Orihime stalls to think of a way to keep the call going. And she really does want to know what his paper is about, just like how Ichigo always wanted to study math with her for hours at a time in their last year of high school. “What do you have so far?”

Ichigo enthusiastically takes up the task of telling her everything about his paper, with some details she remembers from his previous calls and other new developments in his process, gladly using the excuse to take a break from writing and stay on the phone with her. For the entire bus ride he talks about the book he had to read, which is not one of his favorites and why he is having such a hard time thinking of things to write. When the bus stops at her street he talks about the symbols and metaphors, prompting new ideas that she listens to intently as he types them out. He reads the first draft while she makes dinner, she suggests corrections while she eats, and they review the final draft while she gets ready for bed.

It’s almost like having him there, pacing across her room while he writes and plans and writes even more, and she falls asleep and dreams of a poet writing miles of sonnets about his favorite type of bread.


	4. holiday dinners

After taking her to see the lights around the neighborhood, Ichigo walks her home, looking a little more bashful than usual. She stares up at him and waits patiently, because he is wearing that scowl that usually means he’s thinking hard about something. “Hey, Orihime. I was wondering… well, I don’t want you to be alone tomorrow. Do you wanna come over for Christmas dinner?”

She’s nodding profusely before he even finishes his question. “I’d love to, Kurosaki-kun!”

For the rest of the night, the walls hum with her excitement and she can hardly sleep.

-

“Ano, Kurosaki-kun. I don’t mean to be a bother-”

“You’re not, don’t worry.”

“It’s just… Sado-kun will also be by himself as well, and Ishida-kun’s dad is working all night. I hope it’s okay that I invited them over.”

“Well, uh, the more the merrier, right?”

“Un! Only Tatsuki-chan can’t come because she’s going to be out of town with her parents.”

“That’s okay. Maybe next time.”

-

She brings ice cream and ingredients for a cake, which she swears will be delicious and only strawberry-filled with whipped cream, and spends most of the afternoon in the kitchen with Yuzu-chan and Kurosaki-san. Orihime learns that Ichigo is forbidden from the room because he would just be in the way ( _when Orihime-chan is here_ , Karin-chan specifies before continuing up to her room and waves off,  _he only knows how to make eggs anyways_ ). She listens to the young girl dictate her father’s duties in the kitchen while he pouts and complains about his daughter’s authority, hiding a giggle when they turn to her for a deciding vote on who should be in charge.

When they finish, Orihime doesn’t think she has ever seen so much food in her life. The counter is piled with everyone’s favorites, since Yuzu thought it would be nice for all of them to have at least one thing they like at the table. Even after they all ate, there would probably be enough food for a week at least. _It’s enough to feed an army, or one hundred Kurosaki-kuns._

-

“Oi, what the hell are you two doing here?”

“Don’t talk to us like that while we’re keeping  _your_  town out of trouble, baka!”

“And there are lights everywhere, like you’re asking to be noticed.”

“It’s Christmas, idiots.”

“Ichi-kun, the food is- oh! Kuchiki-san! And Renji-kun! Merry Christmas! Are you staying for dinner?”

“Hell, yes.  _Ow!_  What the hell, Rukia?”

“Be more polite to Inoue.”

“Thank you, Inoue-san.”

“Kiss ass.”

“What did you say to me, Strawberry?”

“Get off of me,  _Pineapple_!”

-

Orihime’s head rattles with the noise. The clinking silverware and hushed insults under the guise of a formal dinner, on the cramped dining table that is usually set for four. She keeps bumping elbows with Kurosaki-kun on her right and Yuzu-chan on her left, both apologizing quietly every time but she doesn’t really mind. Rukia and Renji banter in their corner of the table next to Isshin, who keeps trying to steer their conversation to his beloved wife and her poster on the wall. Ishida keeps fidgeting awkwardly, unlike Sado-kun, who is content to observe and smile at his surroundings.

There are so many voices,  _so many people_ , in such a close space. The Kurosaki household is much larger than her apartment, but it feels so full that they all might burst through the front door.

It felt just as lively as a night with Sora, even if it was just the two of them, because he would get a cake from the store and shower her with kisses that would bring her good luck. Piles of blankets would bring the same warmth as a fireplace, and watching Laugh Hour with him was good enough to fill in for a family get together.

Last year’s Christmas she celebrated with her brother, leaving flowers and eating cake at his grave, watching the snow fall until it covered her boots. And it was so quiet, like the year before that and the year before that one, she swore she heard the reindeer bells or Santa’s footsteps. Maybe the elves would visit, too. Anything to fill that silence with sound.

And now, now she is crowded and warm, and Ichigo’s hand in hers makes the room stifling. It reminds her of hot cocoa on a sunny day, or wasabi with chili sauce soothed with honey. He smiles sweetly, with a hint of concern, in the way that he does. He almost looks apologetic.  _Sorry for dragging you into this, for my crazy family, for being too much._

He doesn’t know that too much is a good thing. He doesn’t know that the silence was slowly replaced with Tatsuki and her friends, and him. That just looking around the table made her heart fill to the brim. Orihime leans her head on Ichigo’s shoulder in a silent  _thank you_ , feels his lips press lightly in her hair.

Renji and Rukia whistle salaciously, while Ishida pushes up his glasses and Sado gives a thumbs up. Karin starts to taunt him while her sister tries to stop her. Isshin starts crying about his growing teenage son. And Ichigo is seconds away from beating all of them to the ground.

Orihime wonders if Sora can feel that warmth all the way from Soul Society. If he knows that their family is noisy and rambunctious and just for them.


	5. almost (you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda inspired by hozier’s almost (sweet music), more specifically the lyric “i’m almost me again, she’s almost you” :’)

“He looks so much like you!” People always tell him, which always throws Ichigo off because he really can’t see it. Sure, Kazui has his hair, and probably his lankiness, but he sees more of Orihime in his face and his bubbly nature. They even have the same damn pout, which is entirely unfair. It got them both out of trouble more times than he could count.

And seeing them in the kitchen now, it is safe to assume they have the same taste in foods as well.

“Maybe take it easy with the wasabi, Orihime,” Ichigo suggests from the other side of the counter, watching his son help her with dinner. His wife waves the whisk in her hand enthusiastically, and moves to put the green paste away. “Oh, right!”

But Kazui stops her. “No, mama, more!”

“What do you say?”

“Please!” And Orihime looks at Ichigo sheepishly as she adds more into the mixing bowl.

“You’ll kill me.” Ichigo sighs heavily but doesn’t say anything else. He can understand Orihime’s love for the stuff, sort of, but the fact that a seven year old could handle more spice than him is a little unsettling. Kazui could probably eat wasabi by the spoonful if they didn’t stop him, and Ichigo shudders at the thought.

There is a bowl put to the side that’s probably for him, without the crazy combinations that the two whipped up in the larger one, and his mouth twitches up in gratitude. Orihime is always thinking ahead.

Ichigo watches as they move towards the stove to mix everything with the noodles, Kazui standing a little bit behind Orihime so he won’t get caught with the popping oil.

He remembers thinking that his mom was magic for being able to withstand that while cooking, that she must be the strongest person alive if hot oil didn’t even hurt her. His mother was everything to him when he was younger.

His chest tightens in an achingly familiar way. It’s not often, and it’s not unwelcome, but it catches him off guard. When the loss becomes tangibly real again, when the memories become too heavy to bear all at once.

Kazui clutches Orihime’s skirt with a small fist so she tells him that he doesn’t have to be next to the stove with her if he doesn’t like it, but he holds his ground. Though Orihime would deny it vehemently, Ichigo knows that Kazui is closer to her.

Not that he loves him any less, Ichigo knows. It’s just the way they are. They are so similar in so many ways, it’s just natural for him to grow so attached.

Maybe Ichigo can see it. The way he and his son are alike. He can remember a day like this in his childhood, when all he wanted to do was be there to protect his mother even with such a menial task as cooking.

The image in front of him changes subtly. Kazui still has orange hair and he still has those big, round eyes with as much happiness that they can muster, but now Ichigo sees the smile from his own past. Wide and toothy and cushioned by soft cheeks that were perfect for pinching. Like how he used to be. He could not imagine that face with an angry scowl even if his life depended on it.

Ichigo turns his eyes to Orihime, whom Kazui hasn’t let go of even though the stove is turned off, and recognizes that look on her face as she wraps an arm around their son. It’s soft and reassuring, filled with promise. One that only a parent could give.

He almost feels as light as he was before.

“Don’t worry, Kazui!” Orihime says as she rubs his back, “I will not let the little fire fairies hurt you.”

And he knows Kazui wouldn’t let anything happen to Orihime either.

God, he sounds like such a sentimental sap.


	6. threshold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ups the rating a teensy weensy tiny bit

Ichigo plucks at his sweaty tank top when it sticks to his stomach, the hot weather now a little more bearable now that the sun is low. This was probably one of the hottest summers in Karakura, so he and his friends took the opportunity to make a trip to the beach. Hours of beach volleyball, sunbathing, and swimming in salt water later, they ride the train back home, each of them departing to their respective homes one by one until it’s just him and Orihime. They passed his house a few minutes ago, but he walks her home anyway, making up for the other times he couldn’t.

She skips ahead of him just enough to where she’s tugging him along the sidewalk, her bag swinging in her other hand, her sunhat still perched atop her head. The sunset casts shadows and light over her form, dying her white dress in pinks and oranges much more vibrant than the sun itself.

It’s when they begin to climb the stairs to her apartment that he realizes their time together is almost up for the day. Orihime seems to realize that, too, because her hand tightens around his when they reach the door.

“Today was really fun,” she says, stalling. She makes a show of looking for her keys, and then finding the right one, and he muffles a laugh when she “drops” her bag while trying to open the door.

When it creaks open she stares up at him hopefully, bashfully. “Do you want to come in?”

As much as he wants to give her an adamant  _yes_ , Ichigo shakes his head. “I have classes tomorrow. And I have work.”

He’s already pushing it by staying at his old man’s for another night and taking the train back to school early the next morning. And he’s  _not_  missing a class he’s paying for.

Orihime knows this, too, encourages him to succeed with every step he takes, but she pouts anyway, taking a small, defeated step backwards into the room. He fights the urge to roll his eyes at her dramatics. “Oh, right.”

“And you have work, too,” he reminds her, unnecessarily. Orihime brightens a little bit at the mention of her job, but resumes her wide-eyed stare when he notices.

He knows what she’s doing when she makes that face, she has only been getting better and better at it with every day they are together.Her bottom lip juts out and his eyes follow the movement instinctively. She fights a growing smile when he sighs because _dammit, she got me._

He settles his hands on her hips as she rests her arms over his shoulders, the fingers of one hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He can feel the ties of her bikini bottoms through the light fabric of her sundress. “I can call you.”

“Okay.” She can barely get the word out before he’s leaning down to capture her mouth. It’s a little uncomfortable at first because she’s grinning against him, until Ichigo presses his fingers right above her rear, pulling her closer. She squeaks, then falls into him, responding to his kiss in earnest.

Orihime rises to her tiptoes for a better angle, quickly apologizing when the brim of her hat squishes against his forehead. He hums noncommittally and meets her in the middle,  _really_  not giving a shit about the damn hat when her tongue pokes out to tease him. A shiver runs down his spine, despite the warm air surrounding them.

Ichigo responds immediately, opening his mouth to let her explore, a new kind of heat rushing through his body and taking action. He can feel her hand roaming up his neck, her thumb stroking his jaw, urgency growing with every passing second.

He takes a step forward to back her up against the door before he remembers that it’s already open, one foot across the threshold and his knee pushing between her legs, so he decides to change course.

He wraps one arm around her waist to lift her up, the other traveling up her back to tangle in her hair, now more than eager to accept her invitation to stay at her apartment for a long while, when she gasps sharply and breaks away from him. “Ow.”

“What? What’s wrong?” He sets her down again quickly, eyes widening in concern.

Orihime giggles, looking more flushed than the summer heat could make her. “I think I have a sunburn.”

Ichigo frowns, loosening his hold but not letting go. “I told you to put on more sunscreen.”

“But I was having too much fun,” she mumbles with  _that look_. The lilt in her voice makes him think of  _other things_  that would be fun, but the pause in their actions is long enough to clear his head. “Are you sure you can’t stay?”

Even though she asks lightheartedly, she really does look saddened that he can’t stay longer. This weekend was the first time they actually hung out in weeks, some days passing with only a few scattered texts when time allowed.

The days spent with Orihime are like a breath of fresh air.

Ichigo leans close and kisses her cheek. His fingers lace through hers as he starts to step away. “Stop distracting me.”

“Sorry, Kurosaki-kun,” Orihime laughs breathlessly, smile shining full force. The sun already disappeared behind the horizon, but they barely noticed. The air gets muggy as the temperature drops, and Ichigo is starting to feel gross in his salt-soaked boardshorts. Orihime really didn’t need him pressed up against her when he’s all sweaty and stinky, he thinks.

But then again, it didn’t seem like she minded, as busy as they were.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She nods, tugs on his hand when he’s about to let go and pecks him on the lips. “Goodnight, Ichigo.”

He can feel the tips of his ears turn red at the sound of his name. It sounds new and refreshing when she says his name so sweetly, like a cool breeze that energizes him and a heat wave that melts him on the spot at the same time. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

With one last smile at her, he heads back down the stairs. “Yeah, goodnight.”

-

[9:46] orihime:  _my back hurts (⋟﹏⋞)_

[9:48] ichigo:  _tatsuki is gonna kill u tomorrow_

[9:48] ichigo:  _put some aloe vera_

[9:49] orihime:  _it’s hard to reach but i will try!!_

[9:53] orihime:  _it hurts to take my shirt off_

[9:56] orihime:  _it’s cold!!_

[9:58] orihime:  _i wish u were here to help me_

[10:00] ichigo:  _… orihime_

[10:00] orihime:  _hmm?_

[10:01] orihime:  _oh_

[10:01] orihime:  _heeheehee_


End file.
